Harry's First Magical Christmas
by Healer Pomfrey
Summary: Eight-year-old Harry is locked in his cupboard listening to the Dursleys having Christmas. What if Fawkes could hear his thoughts to Father Christmas and came to rescue him from the Dursleys? Completely AU, Abuse!Dursleys, sick!Harry.


**Harry's First Magical Christmas**

Eight-year-old Harry sighed in relief as he finished the dessert for his relatives' Christmas dinner, stifling a huge yawn. It was already ten o'clock on Christmas Eve, and he had been busy in the kitchen all afternoon and evening. Harry tiredly let his eyes wander around the kitchen once more to make sure he didn't forget any of his chores, before he quietly stepped out into the hall, where he was nearly overrun by his excited cousin on his way into the living room.

"Want to look at the tree?" Dudley invited Harry, who anxiously followed his overweight cousin to get a glimpse at the Christmas tree, before he would be locked into his cupboard like every Christmas.

However, as soon as he hesitantly took the first step into the living room, the door was slammed shut against his head full force, and over the dizziness that swapped over him at once, he could hear his uncle's voice, "Christmas is not for freaks, and Father Christmas doesn't bring anything for ungrateful little urchins anyway."

Out of nowhere, Aunt Petunia showed up and shoved Harry into his cupboard, where Harry dazedly noticed a small plate with a sandwich, a glass of water, and an empty bottle for other purposes waiting for him. "We don't want to hear or see anything of you until Christmas is over," Petunia hissed, slapping the child in anger, when he couldn't prevent himself from getting sick right in front of her feet.

"I'm sorry, Aunt Petunia," Harry mumbled in horror, suddenly feeling absolutely awful.

"Well, clean it up," Petunia fumed, stepping away from the doorframe, so Harry could get out and retrieve everything he needed to clean his cupboard.

Twenty minutes later, Harry finally let himself sink onto his small mattress, drifting off into an exhausted sleep as soon as his head hit the tiny baby pillow he owned.

HP CHRISTMAS HP

In the morning, his mind slowly turned to consciousness when Dudley shouted right in front of the cupboard, "It's Christmas and Father Christmas was here!"

Feeling absolutely dreadful, Harry remained in bed, knowing that the cupboard was locked anyway. He nestled deeper into the light blanked, hoping to get rid of the shivers that were shaking his small body.

'_What happened to me? Is Father Christmas punishing me for being a freak and not a good boy?_' he mused in horror, wondering why he had such a splitting headache and felt completely dizzy this morning.

From the kitchen, Harry could hear his aunt making breakfast, and the smell of bacon spread over the house, causing him to lose the rest of whatever little lunch he had eaten the previous day. Unfortunately, he didn't have anything to clean up, and Harry felt worse by the smell, while he listened to the sounds that came from the Dursleys, who were happily celebrating Christmas.

"Oh Petunia, you should make breakfast yourself more often. It's so much better than that made by the freak," Vernon's voice penetrated his ears, and in his mind Harry pictured him sitting next to Dudley like a larger and a smaller pig, devouring all the bacon on his plate with one large swallow.

After a short while, Harry heard the door of the living room being slammed open, and multiple noises of ecstasy could be heard, '_probably at the sight of the presents under the Christmas tree_,' Harry mused.

"Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen... twenty-five," Dudley counted the presents labelled with his name, before he blurted out in delight, "Roller Coaster Tycoon. Cool! I always wanted to have that. You can build brilliant roller coasters with it."

Harry's stomach churned as he listened to Dudley commenting on each of his twenty-five presents, knowing that the shouting would only be getting worse once his cousin noticed which presents he did not receive for Christmas and began to complain about each single of his unfulfilled wishes. He absentmindedly watched a small spider examine the farthest corner of his cupboard, while he fiercely rubbed his forehead, hoping to acquire slight relieve from his headache.

'_Please, Father Christmas, don't punish me like that_,' Harry desperately thought as he felt his condition worsen by the hour. '_Please help me and take me away from here. Can you call me to where you are, so I can join my Mummy and Daddy in heaven? Please, Father Christmas, I promise that I'll try my best to be good!_'

All of a sudden, he saw a bright flash right before he felt his vision completely fail and the world turn around for a few seconds.

HP HOGWARTS HP

Only when a multiple gasp penetrated his ears, Harry dared open his sore eyes again, letting out a gasp as well. He found himself in an awfully huge room and was standing in front of a table, where two people were just drinking tea. One of them was an old man with moon shaped spectacles and a long white beard. '_Is that..._' he mused in disbelief, fiercely rubbing his forehead, before he let out a frightened, "Father Christmas?"

To his horror, the old man in front of him began to chuckle. "No my boy, I am not Father Christmas. I am Albus Dumbledore, and these are my friend Minerva and my phoenix Fawkes. Fawkes brought you here for some reason. Who are you, my boy, and why do you think Fawkes brought you to us?"

"You can see, who he is, Albus," the lady sitting next to the man admonished him lightly. "It's Harry." She stood up and walked around the table, stepping over to the boy. "Hello Harry," she said softly. "I am Minerva McGonagall, and I knew you well when you were a baby. Come sit with us and have a cup of tea, and then you'll tell us what happened that caused Fawkes to take you away from your relatives."

"Thank you," Harry replied in a small voice, quickly holding on to the table as he swayed a little.

"Harry, are you ill?" McGonagall queried and threw the child a piercing look, noticing that he was very pale, although his cheeks were deeply flushed and his forehead was covered with small pearls of sweat. She gently extended a hand to his forehead, quickly pulling it back when Harry flinched back vehemently. "Harry, I'm not going to hurt you," she explained in a soothing voice. "I merely wanted to check on you, because you look as if you were ill." She held out her hand for Harry to grip it. "Come, let's sit down at the table, and you can tell us what happened."

Harry hesitantly took the gentle woman's hand that felt icy cold to the touch and followed her around the table, where she made him sit on the chair, which she had previously occupied, so he sat between the Father Christmas person and her.

"Harry, did you already have breakfast?" McGonagall enquired gently, exchanging a concerned look with the Headmaster.

"No, but my belly doesn't like food. I got sick a few times since last night," Harry replied in a small voice, only to be heard by the kind lady.

"In that case, Harry, let me take you to my friend Poppy. We're at a huge school here, and she looks after the sick children. She'll be able to make you feel better in the blink of an eye," McGonagall told the child and once more took his hand, slowly guiding him through the empty halls of the castle to the hospital wing. She gently helped Harry to lie down on the nearest bed, and Harry let himself sink on the bed, closing his eyes in relief as his head hit the pillow, noticing that the bed was extremely comfortable in comparison to his own mattress in his cupboard.

All of a sudden, Harry noticed a tingling sensation run over his body and back. '_What's that?_' he mused. '_It doesn't hurt. In fact, it feels good, but it's tickly_.' He couldn't help let out a small laugh and opened his eyes, seeing a woman standing right next to him, who waved a stick at him.

"Hello sweetie, I'm Poppy Pomfrey," she introduced herself. "Harry, you have a concussion. That makes your head hurt so much, and that gives you the fever and the nausea. I'm going to give you some medicine for it, and you'll have to stay in bed or at least rest a lot for a few days. Try not to unnecessarily move your head." With that, the woman stepped away into an adjacent room, returning with a small goblet shortly later. She placed the goblet on the night table and gently helped Harry sit up, before she pressed the goblet against his lips and coaxed him into swallowing the dark green liquid completely.

Harry hesitantly gulped down the strange liquid, which tasted like what he imagined as a mixture of frog eggs and vomit, noticing the effect immediately. He sighed in relief as he felt his headache recede and his body cool down some.

"Does he have to remain in bed?" the man, who resembled Father Christmas, queried, and Harry noticed that his eyes were twinkling merrily.

"Yes, he either has to stay here, or one of you has to take him with you to your quarters," Pomfrey replied in a firm voice.

"Harry," Dumbledore pulled a chair next to the bed, "can you please tell us exactly what happened, so we can decide what to do?"

Harry sighed and began to explain in a small voice, "I was locked in my cupboard, listening to the Dursleys have Christmas. My head hurt so much and I felt so bad that I thought Father Christmas was punishing me for being a freak. I asked him to take me to him, so I could be in heaven with my parents. Then there was a bright flash, and all of a sudden I was here with you."

"Fawkes must have sensed your wish and decided to bring you to us," Dumbledore commented thoughtfully. "I'll question him about the matter later on."

"Why were you locked in a cupboard?" McGonagall queried, and Harry noticed something like concern in her expression.

"I live in the cupboard under the stairs, and the Dursleys always lock me in over Christmas, so I won't disturb their holidays, because I'm a freak and a burden and Father Christmas won't bring Christmas for a freak anyway."

The three adults, who were listening to the hardly audible whispering, threw each other horrified looks.

"Harry, you are not a freak," McGonagall told him firmly. "However, you're a wizard just like we are witches and wizards. We live here in a magical school, which all magical children from the age of eleven onwards attend. Your parents were here at this school, and you are supposed to come to this school in two and a half years as well."

"But I can't be... I'm only Harry, a good for nothing freak and a burden that nobody loves," Harry whispered unbelievingly."

"No Harry, what Professor McGonagall told you is true, and you must have let lose a bout of accidental magic in order to call Fawkes, so he came and rescued you this morning," the Headmaster explained thoughtfully, smiling at the child.

Memories of his school teacher's hair dyed blue or himself summoning a piece of chalk in the classroom appeared in front of Harry's mind as he mouthed in amazement, "A wizard?"

"Yes Harry, you're a wizard, and once you'll learn how to practise magic, you'll be quite a powerful wizard, considering that you unintentionally managed to summon Fawkes, who normally listens to nobody except for me," Dumbledore reassured the child, making a small smile play on his lips.

"Harry, would you like to stay with us here in the castle instead of returning to your relatives?" McGonagall asked gently, causing Harry's eyes to twinkle in hopeful delight.

"That would be wonderful," Harry replied, turning his eyes to the kind lady.

"Then you may stay here, Harry," Dumbledore decided, querying, "Minerva, we have to choose one of our colleagues to become Harry's guardian, or do you have a suggestion?"

"Yes Albus, I'd love to become Harry's guardian. Poppy, may I take him with me to my quarters, and Albus, will you please join us and help me get Harry settled in?"

The Mediwitch and the Headmaster agreed, and Dumbledore gently picked Harry up to take him through the Floo network to McGonagall's quarters. A few minutes later, Harry found himself lying on a sofa in a very comfortable looking room with a huge fireplace in the middle and huge bookshelves around the room. All of a sudden, he felt extremely tired and couldn't prevent his eyes from drooping.

"It's all right to sleep for a while, Harry," McGonagall's gentle voice penetrated his ears as he drifted off to sleep due to the after effect of the potion.

When Harry woke up he noticed a large Christmas tree standing next to a window that allowed the view onto a frozen lake. "Oh, this is beautiful," he said in absolute amazement as he stepped over to hesitantly touch the fantastic ornaments, which the teachers had charmed and conjured for the tree while he had been asleep.

"Let's see if Father Christmas brought you a present," Dumbledore said gently, pulling a present out from under the tree.

Harry threw the man an amazed look, whispering, "Thank you," before he carefully began to open the first present he had ever received, at least as far as he could remember. The present turned out to be a small book entitled, '_The Tales of Beedle the Bard_.'

"Ah, this is a children's book with little tales, which all children in the magical world know," Dumbledore replied with a twinkle in his eyes.

'_Thank you, Father Christmas. I so much wished for a book just for myself_,' Harry mused in absolute delight.

Harry received two other presents. The next box McGonagall handed him contained a small amount of clothes, making a huge smile appear on the child's face. '_They're just for me and they're all new_,' he realized in complete amazement. "Thank you so much, Father Christmas," he said aloud, before he took the last present from his new guardian.

The last present contained a stuffed white unicorn with green eyes like Harry's. It felt very fluffy and Harry immediately cuddled it close, throwing Minerva a happy look.

"If you stare into its eyes, its colour will change," she explained softly, causing Harry to try it out and squeal in delight as the unicorn turned blue.

"I'll have a look at Harry's new room," the Headmaster suddenly said, explaining, "The house–elves are just preparing the room."

"Harry, do you want me to read you the first story from your new book?" McGonagall queried gently, sitting down on the edge of the sofa, before she explained, "I'm sure that you're able to read on your own, but with that headache you shouldn't read at the moment."

"I'd love that," Harry replied gratefully and listened in amazement as his new guardian read the story of the wizard and the hopping pot to him. '_It's a bit like the Muggle fairy tales, but somehow nicer_,' he mused and was just about to ask for more when the Headmaster returned.

"Harry, normally, all the teachers and students, who remained at the castle over the holidays, meet in the Great Hall, which is where you arrived this morning, for Christmas dinner. However, since you're not allowed to get up and there aren't any students in the castle this year, Professor McGonagall invited all our colleagues to have Christmas dinner here in her quarters," the Headmaster explained to Harry in a gentle voice. "Are you feeling well enough to have dinner together with several other teachers, or do you want us to show you to your new room, so you can rest?"

"I'd love to attend Christmas dinner, because I never was allowed to do so before. I did all the cooking though, so I can help cook dinner," Harry replied excitedly.

"No sweetie, you're not a house–elf. At Hogwarts we have house–elves, who do all the cooking for us. I expect you to keep your own room tidy, but you won't have other chores to do here at Hogwarts," McGonagall contradicted in a gentle but firm voice, causing Harry to look at his new guardian in surprise.

'_How am I supposed to earn my keep then?_' he mused anxiously.

An hour later, the other teachers arrived and Harry attended his first Christmas dinner ever, noticing that he had never before eaten anything so delicious. While they were enjoying the delicacies the house–elves had overdone themselves in preparing, McGonagall introduced him to her colleagues, who were all extremely friendly. After a few bites of everything including another potion that Madam Pomfrey placed in front of him, he felt utterly full and tired and sighed in relief as Minerva, who was sitting next to him on the sofa, pulled his head down onto her lap so he could rest.

Half asleep he listened to the teachers' conversation that circled around the question what to do with him during the day, while his guardian had to teach classes.

"We could take turns teaching him normal primary school knowledge in our free periods," Sprout voiced, causing Snape to snort.

"I don't have time to teach in my free periods. I need the time to brew potions for the hospital wing. He could assist me though if he wants," the teacher offered in a soft, silky voice, causing Harry to smile inwardly.

"Maybe we should do as Pomona suggested, except for Severus of course," Flitwick spoke up thoughtfully, "and from September onwards, he could attend Hogwarts as a first year. Considering that Harry is Lily's and James' son, he should be intelligent and powerful enough to attend classes even at a younger age. At least I believe it's worth a try."

"Are you not afraid that the older children would harass him because of his age, Filius?" Dumbledore queried gently, absentmindedly popping a lemon drop into his mouth.

McGonagall sighed, carefully pushing an errand strand of hair from Harry's forehead. "We could introduce him to the Weasley twins, who would certainly be thrilled to take him under their wings, provided that all three of them will be sorted into Gryffindor of course."

With a huge smile on his face, a comfortably full belly, and a soothing sensation at the soft and cool touch from his new guardian, Harry drifted off to sleep, knowing that soon he would be allowed to study together with children, who were as much or as less a freak as himself. '_This was my best Christmas ever_,' was his last thought, before his breathing evened out.

**The End**

_

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I'm not a native speaker of English. Please excuse my mistakes or help me correct them._

_Everything here belongs to J. K. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story._


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